


Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines in Pieces on the Ground

by Rumpelstiltskin_wait



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Song fic, Tragedy, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumpelstiltskin_wait/pseuds/Rumpelstiltskin_wait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've seen fire and I've seen rain. I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end. I've see lonely times when I could not find a friend. But I always thought that I'd see you again."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines in Pieces on the Ground

**Author's Note:**

> If you couldn't tell by the title or the summary, this fic is based off the song 'Fire and Rain' by James Taylor.  
> **Trigger warnings for depression and suicide**

***

_**February, 2016** _

_I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain_  
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end  
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend  
But I always thought that I’d see you again 

The lyrics echoed in Rowen Golds ears as he walked down a dreary Glasgow sidewalk. There was a slight drizzle, and dark clouds threatened an oncoming storm, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. _Let it rain_ , he thought, _let it pour...it’d be fitting._

He liked the rain; it hid the tears.

***

_**March, 2007** _

He was finally doing it. It’d taken nearly 10 years, but here he was; 20 years old and boarding a plane to America. And he was practically giddy.  

It wasn’t just the independence, the feeling of finally being free. It was the thought that as soon as his plane touched down in New York, he’d be starting over. There’d be no one to sneer at him when he walked down the street, no one taunting obscenities out car windows, no one cursing his name for his father’s deeds.  Maybe he could even meet someone, a _female_ someone to be specific. He smirked at the thought as he took his seat by the window. 

“Excuse me” came a sweet, accented, voice from the aisle. Rowen turned to address the woman, and his jaw went slack. “I’m so sorry, I don’t want to be _that_ person…But is there any way you would be willing to part with the window seat? I just have this thing where every time I’m on a plane I sit by the window so I can say goodbye to the place I’m leaving” She finished, smiling sweetly.

It took him a moment to process the woman’s words –girl more like, she only looked 18 or 19 herself- and the fact that she was actually speaking to _him_. 

“Sorry! Yeah! ‘course! ‘s no big deal jus’ a seat” he babbled, scrambling to his feet to move to the aisle, allowing her to pass him to take her seat. 

“I’m Belle by the way!” The girl exclaimed once he’d parked himself in the seat next to her, thrusting her hand out in front of him, “I figure we’re gonna be on this plane for a while, so we might as well get to know each other, right?” 

“Rowen…” He said, gently shaking her small hand. 

He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone as beautiful as this girl –Belle. How fitting, he thought. Piercing blue eyes, a bright lipstick smile, porcelain skin, dark auburn curls tossed over her shoulder, all wrapped in a sunflower yellow dress. And she was going to be sitting next to him for the next 7 hours. 

-

As it turned out, 7 hours flew by when you were deep in conversation with the most beautiful girl you’d ever laid eyes on. 

He found out that she grew up in Melbourne –which explained the accent, she had just turned 19, and she had spent the last year since turning 18 traveling the world with funding that her late parents had put away for her specifically for that purpose. America was last on her list, and that was where she was going to stay. 

It was ridiculous really, he’d only met her 7 hours before, but as they stepped side by side into the terminal, and into new beginnings, he couldn’t help thinking that he would very much like her to be a part of his. 

***

**_February, 2016_ **

_Well there’s hours of time on the telephone line_  
to talk of things to come  
_Sweet dreams and flying machines_  
in pieces on the ground

It was only fitting that the thing that brought them together be the thing to tear them apart. 

It was pouring now. Fat drops of rain soaked his thin jumper. He still didn’t care. It could never stop raining for all he cared. A sunny day could never grace this earth again and he wouldn’t care. Belle would never witness another sunny day, so what was the point?

His entire frame shook with sobs as the same words that haunted his sleep screamed in his head over and over again. 

_“They couldn’t stop the bleeding.”_

He kept walking. 

***

**_September, 2015_ **

He couldn’t believe it. This was really happening. 

In less than 24 hours, he would be a married man. Belle’s plane would land in Glasgow in a few hours, he’d drop her off at her hotel, and tomorrow morning she’d be walking down the aisle and into his arms; where –gods willing- she would stay for the rest of their lives. 

They’d already bought a house on a hill like they’d dreamed of, she could have that garden she’d always wanted, he could finally get a dog, they could…they could have _kids_ … 

They’d been together so long, and since the day he knew he loved her he knew he wanted a family with her. But now it was real, now it was within his grasp, and as long as he lived he would never let it go. 

A shrill, unfamiliar ringing from his pocket yanked him from his thoughts. The only calls he ever got on his cell were from Belle, and he could hear her designated ringtone from a mile away; this was not Belles ringtone. He hesitated, then swiped a finger across the screen.

Before he had a chance to ask who the hell it was, and how the hell they got the number for his private cell, a hurried voice tinted with worry burst from the device at his ear, “Is this Rowen Gold?” 

“I- yeah it is bu-“

“Sir this is the New York-Presbyterian Hospital. I’m afraid there’s been an accident. Do you know Belle French?” 

His heart stopped. “Y-yes...Is she- is she okay?”

“Sir…I’m sorry. Are you her fiancé?”

Panic clawed at his stomach, and he swallowed down the bile rising in his throat, “yes I’m her fiancé but I- what do you mean?! What happened?!”

“Mr. Gold, your fiancée was involved in a plane crash and was life-flighted here. We did all we can but-“

“Just tell me if Belle is okay.”  He growled, pushing past the lump in his throat. 

“I’m _so_ sorry sir, but…they couldn’t stop the bleeding. She...Mr. Gold, you’re fiancée was pronounced dead on arrival.”

The world around him stopped. He was vaguely aware of the phone slipping from his hand and a harsh stinging in his knees as he fell to the ground, but then there was darkness, then nothing. 

***

_**February, 2016** _

_My body’s aching and my time is at hand  
and I won’t make it any other way_

He has memories of the events following his beloved Belles death. Distant memories that don’t quite feel like his own.

He knew at some point after he passed out, someone from the wedding party found him. He knew someone made the calls to cancel the festivities for the wedding that would now never happen. He knew he flew to New York and saw her one last time. He knew they wouldn’t let him see anything but her face; he didn’t want to think about why that was. He knew he planned her funeral. He knew he buried the love of his life. 

He knew he hadn’t felt alive since that day. 

The only reason he knew he was alive was because it _hurt._ Everything _hurt._

_He just wanted to stop hurting._

People told him the pain would fade after a while, and maybe five months isn’t long enough to tell, but it hadn’t faded, and he didn’t think it ever would. From the moment he saw her, Belle had immediately brought something to his life that he’d never had before. A piece of himself that had previously been missing; like she’d been unknowingly carrying a piece of his soul that was just waiting for her to click it back into place. 

She was a part of every part of him. Every piece of his soul was connected to hers in some way, big or small. 

And now she was gone, and every piece of him had gone with her. 

The rain slowed as he neared the cemetery. They’d discussed burial arrangements early on in their long engagement, people had thought they were crazy thinking about that so young, but clearly, it wasn’t as crazy as one would think.

She’d wanted to be buried next to him, wherever that would be. Now she was buried alone, next to the spot that he would one day occupy. At least in the end, they’d be together on a hill in Glasgow, just like they always wanted. 

“Hey Belle...” He breathed, approaching her headstone. “I uh...God I never know what to say ‘ya know?” He said, smiling sadly.

He knelt and traced the big cursive B marking the beginning of her name on the slab of marble.

__**Belle French  
** 1988-2015  
Beloved daughter and fiancée  


There was new grass springing up on the long mound of overturned soil, and fresh bundles of flowers adorning the base. He recognized one bundle that he’d placed there a few days prior, but not the other three or four bunches. 

No one in Glasgow would have known her, not well enough to visit anyway. Rowen supposed the frequenters of the cemetery saw the fresh headstone of a 27 year old bride-to-be and felt it the right thing to do to pay their respects.  
He was thankful for that, given she had no family -besides him- left to visit her.

Slowly he lowered himself to sit with his back against the cold marble and brought his knees to his chest, reaching into the pocket of his soaked jumper and pulling out her wedding band, spinning it in his fingers. “I miss you...I miss you so much Belle.” 

He shivered, wiping a wet sleeve under his eyes, “I rem-remember that thing you’d always say ‘bout being brave...”Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow” His shoulders shook as he spoke, and a rush of new hot tears burned their way down his cheeks, “You were always the brave one...I’m not brave, Belle.”

He became vaguely aware of the stinging cold metal nestled against the small of his back, taking a deep breath he continued, “I jus’...I can’t. I can’t be brave without you, Belle. And I know what you would say, you’d say that I have to be brave and I have to go on. But I _can’t._ “ 

He turned jerkily to the side, leaning his shoulder against the rose border engraved around his loves name, his slight frame shaking painfully against the stone.

“I’m sorry, Belle. I-” He reached around his back, pulling the loaded revolver from the loose waistband of his jeans with shaking hands. “I-I know this isn’t what you would want, and I’m _so_ sorry... but I n-need you B-belle“ 

Again, for whatever reason in that moment, the lyrics of her favorite song rang in his mind. Lyrics he’d heard at least a thousand times since he’d known her. Lyrics she’d always said were “tragically beautiful”, with a shine in her eyes and a sad smile on her lips. 

_I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain_  
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end  
I’ve _seen lonely times when I could not find a friend_  
_But I always thought that I’d see you again_  
I guess I always thought that I’d see you again...

Tracing her name one last time with a shaking, numb fingertip, he took another deep breath, “I love you Belle...I’ll see you again...We’ll be together soon”


End file.
